Canadian Rose
by LondonGoth
Summary: A fluffy o/s based off song. AH ExR


**Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer. This o/s belongs to me! I do not steal from you, please don't steal from me.**

**The song belongs to Blues Traveler.**

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><p><strong>*~*Canadian Rose*~*<strong>

**Autumn air it carries me there **

**Less than an hour to go **

**Six hundred miles an hour And still it feels so slow **

**I'm trying to get back to Burlington **

**To a square in the center of town **

**To a spot on a wooden table **

**Where her feet didn't reach the ground **

**And when she kisses me it tasted like cinnamon **

**And her skin smells of cider and rose **

**And when she looked at me we both got quiet **

**And my heart beats so hard we were in so close **

**Once for such a beautiful while that still makes me smile**

**And she called me her ugly American **

**And I would call her my Canadian flower **

**And I don't think that we'll ever get there again **

**We had such power **

**And she would call me her ugly American **

**And I'll remember my Canadian rose **

**Especially when the fall comes to Burlington **

**We were in so close.**

Colors so bright and rich it hurts my eyes. The smell of deep, wet earth filters in my open car window. The sight of clear blue skies, and bright sun fills me with happiness. The air so fresh, crisp and cool, it wakes me up. One cup of hot apple cider sits in my cup holder, extra cinnamon. And I just want to get there, to Burlington. To where _she_ is waiting. I've broken every speeding record and law to get to less than an hour to go! I want to touch her, hold her. If I do anything, it will be to touch and feel the softness of her pink cheek under my finger tip while it goes along with the curve of her face. The smell of her skin: like an orchard of apples, and as soft as rose petals. I want to bury my nose in her neck, feel her pulse. It's been four weeks, three days since I've seen her. That was four weeks, three days too long in my opinion. I want to be so close to her that I can count the specks of light blue in her violet eyes. I want to run the tip of my tongue across her full lips and feel the tiny lines there. I want her on top of me as we lay in the cool grass while she tells me about her week. I want her long blonde hair to surround us both, hiding us from the eyes that will no doubt watch as we caress, kiss and hold one another. All the while I look as the sun shines through the strains of gold in her hair - making her seem like an angel bathed in light and goodness. I will tuck a wild piece of her hair behind her ear as I nod and listen to her soft, sweet voice tell me about what professors she likes and which ones are too old to be teaching. She will tell me about the dream she had. About us, all the dirty, and wonderful things we did in that dream- that I will then act out with her later on alone in her bed.

I finally pull my car into the lot right in front of our spot. In the center of this lazy little town, sits one wooden table, weather worn gray and perfect height so her small feet don't touch the ground, giving me the excuse to place them in my lap. There you will find a spot on that table where you will see a carving of a rose, with her name written into the vine. I carved it for her on our first date. Back then I was so nervous I couldn't breathe. When she looked at me, my heart beat so hard and so loud in my ears, it hurt. We were so close, her exhale was my inhale. Our first kiss was sweet and warm- just like it should be on a first date. Her tongue tasted like the cinnamon from her cider and I couldn't get enough. When we looked at each other, everything was so quiet. She brought a peace to my soul that I never knew before.

There she sits with a book in her lap, sunglasses on, and a smile softly dancing on her lips. Not just any smile. _My_ smile. She knows I'm here. Just like she knows I know she sees me. She will pretend to be so caught up in her reading that she will allow me a 'surprise' attack. Before I get close, her scent hits me, and just like that, I'm home. Just that easy - wherever she is, that is my home.

"Jane Eyre?" I ask when looking over her shoulder at the pages of her worn book. I can feel the warmth from her against my cheek. She has a blue ribbon as her bookmark for the page.

" Feminisim at its early rise." She looks at me over her sunglasses. One perfect light eyebrow raised.

"You've read Jane Eyre?" She is playful today. She has a smile that makes the sun seem dim in comparison.

"Had to. It's my girlfriend's favorite book." I smile, wanting to touch her more than ever. but I will play this game.. for now.

"Girlfriend? She must be something special if you read a book just because of her." Flirty little thing. God, she is beautiful.

"She means everything to me. It helped that I found the book very good- a solid female lead who wasn't the damsel in distress. Don't get me wrong, I would die for my love, protect her with my last breath. However, I find something very sexy about a woman who can stand her ground. My lady shows that same strength. My girl is the sexiest thing around." I say softly in her ear, taking a nibble at her lobe.

"She sounds amazing." She says sounding out of breath. I can no longer wait- I grab at her, tossing the paperback to the table. I pick her up by her hips and place her in my lap as I sit down. _Home_.

"She is the most amazing woman I have ever known, and I happen to be head over heels, madly in love with her. Don't tell her but someday, somehow I am going to ask her to be my wife." Tears form in her beautiful eyes and her breathing is shallow. A breath-taking smile lights up my angel's face.

"She will say yes." She breathes against my lips. And then I kiss her. Cinnamon, sweet and warm.

"I missed you my Canadian Rose." I whisper against her soft lips. She hums while keeping her eyes closed. I see her smile start, and know what she's about to say to me.

"I missed you, too my ugly American." She laughs as I tickle her sides. She will always call me her ugly American just as I will always call her my Canadian Rose. She has called me that since the first time I met her. I see no time in our lives when she will stop. Rose's older brother, Jasper and I were roomates back in Seattle, and Rose came to visit him one weekend. She was just about to go to college in Burlington and wanted to see her brother before classes started up. The moment I opened the door and saw her standing there, I knew I had to have her. She had heard jasper's roommate was from a small town in Washington, but that was about it. She was curious about Americans since she and Jasper were from Montreal. And so as she stepped in the doorway she took control of not only our introduction, but of my heart as well.

"Hello I'm Rose, Jasper's sister. And you must be the ugly American roommate." She said holding out her small hand. I was so taken aback by her calling me ugly I stood there shocked. It wasn't until later on when I had gotten the nerve up to ask her out that she explained to me that she had seen photos of me and that she had started referring to me as "The Ugly American" when talking to her brother. It was her inside joke because ugly was the furthest thing she thought when she saw me. I in return started calling her my Canadian Rose after one of my favorite songs. It fit, just like us. After coming all the way into Burlington just to take her out, after weeks of phone calls, texting and emails, I knew she was the one. Never before had I took the time like I did then.

One day after meeting her, I couldn't stop thinking about her. One week into dating we shared a kiss that set my world on fire. One month into it, she made me feel alive. One year, I was so in love I didn't know how one body, one heart could hold so much passion and devotion for another. I knew I wanted her to be my wife. When I looked into her beautiful violet eyes, I saw my children. I saw our lives blend together. I saw myself coming home to hear about her day. I saw me making love to her each night, holding her in my arms as she slept. Waking up to her each morning. I saw her full of life, round with my child. I saw it all. I wanted it so bad that it became a taste on my tongue.

The first time I made love to her, we couldn't stop smiling while holding on tightly to one another. We then shared our feelings of love, and we laughed at our silly love sick antics. She made me not so much of an asshole. I made her laugh, and to not take life so seriously.

We were so close..

Then I started a new job, one that took me over seas, and took up much of my time- leaving hardly any weekends. We started to fight more than we laughed. The miles ate away at us until one day there wasn't an us anymore. We both cried when we agreed angerly, bitterly that it just wasn't working anymore. It was a realization that life can take something beautiful and make it ugly.

**I finally made it this town looks rearranged **

**I don't know these people anymore **

**But in the best ways not much else has changed **

**From the way it was before **

**And at least they still have this certain table **

**Where I once carved a particular name **

**I run my finger through the weathered carving **

**And I almost can feel the same **

**And my mouth it almost tastes just like cinnamon **

**As I ponder what my pilgrimage means **

**And I try to figure out where Vancouver is from here **

**And I listen to the leaves **

**If only for a beautiful while that still makes me smile**

**And she called me her ugly American **

**And I would call her my Canadian flower **

**And I don't think that we'll ever get there again **

**We had such power **

**And she would call me her ugly American **

**And I'll remember my Canadian rose **

**Especially when the fall comes to Burlington **

**We were in so close**

I come back here every single fall. I come to our table where she no longer waits. It's been five years. She has since graduated and moved on. I hear she works for a design firm in downtown Vancouver. Here I am at thirty, still not married or even dating someone seriously- much to my mother's displeasure. My postion is finally where I can work from the comfort of my own home. I finally made it and so much time has passed that things just don't look the same anymore. It occurs to me that I don't know this town any longer. Back when I was twenty-five, hopelessly, stupidly, wonderously in love with a twenty year old student, I was too foolish to know what I had. I wanted her, I just didn't know that I _needed_ her. Hindsight is truly, perfectly, bitterly 20/20. So here I sit on top the old weathered table that once served me well. In many ways things are not the same, but some do remain.. my finger runs along the old carving and I smile. Autumn has come to Burlington once again like clockwork. The blue sky, vivid colors on the trees, like seeing an old friend again. Something stirs within my soul and I am reminded that while it is true time has passed, feelings I had haven't wilted away like the fall leaves when winter comes. I still love her every bit as much, if not more, then I did back then. It's just time has now matured me enough to know how to care for that love. I close my eyes, raise my face to the warming of the Autumn sun as a cool breeze blows across my face. And as I try to ponder what my journey, my pilgrimage means, my mouth tastes like her- cinnamon. I jump up, look around half expecting her to be standing there. I know what I have to do. I walk to my car all the while using my iphone to figure out where Vancouver is from here... and I agree to let the wind carry me. I listen to the leaves tell me to hurry up! First time in a long time.. I smile.

**And every single hope and dream I could ever conjure up **

**Passionately springs in me and all things are possible **

**Plausible and perfectly both of ours forever after and every day **

**At least it seemed that way **

**Once for such a beautiful while that still makes me smile**

**And she called me her ugly American **

**And I would call her my Canadian flower **

**And I don't think that we'll ever get there again **

**We had such power **

**And she would call me her ugly American **

**And I'll remember my Canadian rose **

**Especially when the fall comes to Burlington **

**We were in so close.**

As I drive, I think about what I want my future to be. What it looks like, how it feels, the shape it takes. I can't predict it all, but I know I want her with me. Hard times, good times, silly times and boring times- I welcome them all. I am a man reborn. Every dream I have ever had she's stared in, every hope I have to show her how passionately I love her springs up in my chest and all of a sudden.. everything seems possible.

Because I bothered Jasper until he was cussing me out, I now had her work address in downtown Vancouver. Mostly I think Jasper took pity on me since he was in a romantic state of mind due to him just asking his long-time girlfriend, Alice to marry him. Whatever gets me to her. I again drive like the rules and laws of the roads do not apply to me. My timing could not have been better.. or so I thought. I park in a spot right in front of her building and sprint to the glass doors. Before I can reach them she steps out of those same doors. Surrouned by a group of people, talking loudly of relaxing and prepairing for the weekend. But all that I see is her. My Rose. Those five years have been very very good to her. My heart might explode. I tell my body to cool it- I do not need any reminders because I know she is the one.

"Rose." I see her stop- her back is to me. The man beside her lays a hand against the small of her back, giving her a questioning look. Jealousy clouds my eyes and everything becomes tinted red. Through this whole journey of mine, call it egotistical on my part, but never once did it cross my mind she would belong to another. I suppose somewhere in my subconscious mind I had blocked out any and all things that included Rosalie having a relationship with someone else. Even if the hulk who is touching her rather friendly isn't .. friendly with her, there might be someone else. I know she isn't married- that was all Jasper would give me. It was good enough for me. I would never take that which belonged to other man, but she wore no ring on her finger. I still had a chance here. If I could remain calm and not pick her up, throw her over my shoulder to take her to my bed. I will admit that seemed like a brilliant plan.. I had a shot.

"Who is this? My oh my." A red head stepped around Rose and walked toward me with a hand held out. "Hi there I'm Victor. But you can call me Vicky." Then the man proceeded to wink at me. Rose still stood there looking as if I were a ghost.

Not really wanting to, but not willing to be rude to Rosalie's co-workers, I stuck my hand out. "Hello, I'm Ed-"

"Edward?" Rose finally seemed to snap out of her trance. I couldn't tell if she was mad or still just shocked.

"What are you doing here?" Everyone around Rose looked at each other before announcing they would be down the street at some jazz club. To which 'Vicky' invited me as well.

The man who I had contemplated hitting, spoke softly to Rose. "How do you know this man? Come on Rosie let's go." _Rosie_? I really wanted to hit him. He tried to pull her with him but her heels were dug in. After much debate hulk left without Rose- pouting as he went.

I took a step toward her, "Rose-"

"What the hell are you doing here? Why are you in Vancouver?" She had a look between rage and panic on her beautiful face.

"I came to see you. I had to see you."

"Five years, Edward. It has been five years and you just now had the yearning to see me?" I notice her bottom lip tremble slightly.

I prove how dumbstruck I am at seeing her by my next comment. "How have you been?"

"How have I been? I have people waiting. Goodbye Edward." She turns to leave.

"Don't walk away. Please love."

'Why?"

"Don't go off with that hulk in a cheap suit."

"Emmett happens to be a very .. nice man. He asked me out.. I don't have to get your ok on this!"

"Rose, please."

"No! You made a choice all those years ago. Edward, you chose your career over our relationship. That was your right, but it left me heartbroken and with little choice of my own. I could either move on or I could just stop living. I think it's clear I picked the former option. Now, goodbye Edward." I would be damned if I let her leave before hearing me out.

"If you are anything like me, if you loved me like I loved you, then you said you moved on but really it was a cover. I know this because I stopped living. Honey, my life's failure is letting you walk away from me all those years ago. I will not let that happen again- not without fighting for you. I have lived a meaningless existance without you. You might have left my bed, but you never left my heart. I am standing before you a desperate man."

"What do you want?"

"You." I started walking closer to her as people passed us on either side. "I want _everything_ you. I want your hair in my face as we lay talking. I want your sent on me throughout my day because it is enough to get me to the nights when I hold you again. I want your taste on my tongue, I want to feel your skin on my skin. Even if you never allowed me to touch you again, I would be in hell but it is nothing compaired to not having any of you at all."

"Have you lost your mind?"

"Perhaps. It solely depends on if you say no. It's you, Rose. It has always been _you_. No one else. I want to share everything with you. I want to hear your voice everyday. That accent of yours that I used to make fun of - to which you pretended to be angry about, but you always allowed me to hold you and whisper how I adored how you spoke. I hope our children speak the same way. I will promise to forever put you first. I will stand before God, friends and family to pledge my never ending love and devotion. I can no longer live in a world were you aren't." She was shaking. Her eyes were full of tears that hadn't yet fallen.

"Please, Edward." I took her beautiful face in my hands. Bending at the knee to see eye to eye with her.

"I love you. I have missed you" As my lips softly touched hers: Cinnamon, sweet and warm. _Home_. I felt her tears spill over, wetting both our faces. She cried so hard her body shook. Wrapping my arms around her, I thanked God she allowed me to hold her again.

"Love, I have been nothing without you. My Rose." I say everything I felt in that moment. Her scent, her warmth, I had it all in my arms. "Rose, I told you about that girl, my girl. That one day I would ask her to marry me?" I felt her stiffen in my arms and then pull back to nod slightly.

"Marry me?" Everything went so still.

We were in so close..

"Ugly American?" She whispered, my heart jumped at our old nicknames.

"Yes, my Canadian Rose?"

"I told you she would say yes." I picked her up and laughed, cried and shouted to everyone in downtown Vancouver that I was the happiest ugly American in the world!

We kissed on the sidewalk as people around us started cheering and clapping. I felt her lips freeze against mine. She opened her eyes and looked at me with wide eyes and a shocked face full of joy, embarrassment, and humor.

"You better make sure you stick around this time or I will kick your ass." Her tone showing she wasn't joking. That's _my_ Rose.

We had a fall wedding in Burlington that lead to a summer babygirl we happened to name Autumn.

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><p><strong>Meh- I felt the need for some fluff :) Thanks for reading!<strong>


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